If I'm Not In Love With You
by Princess180
Summary: COMPLETE!Spike's returned from the dead, he never came back on Angel, but did the sensible thing and went back to Buffy. But a scheming Giles got in the way.
1. What Is This I'm Going Through?

**A/N: Sorry if I miss any major Spike-isms here, I'm just flicking through a 'quotes' site to find the ones I like. Also, in my personal universe, Spike didn't come into Angel at all.**

**Disclaimer: Do you think Spike would be dead if I owned it?**

**.**  
  
Buffy had realized very shortly after entering her 'retirement' that unless you were ready for dentures, retirement was one of the most boring things in the world. But slaying hadn't appealed as much anymore, so she'd gone to the newly rebuilt Council of Watchers, and asked to become a Watcher. There hadn't been anything to do during the long days in Rome, Dawn hadn't liked it much either. So, she'd been assigned to a Slayer named Dina in London, England.  
  
She had been apprehensive about coming here- anything that reminded her of Spike was too much to bear. Even Dawn was telling her it was stupid, not wearing leather or listening to punk music was one thing- crying when she saw the plastic bag of milk at the back of the fridge was another. Dawn just worried about her, and tried not to bring him up in conversation, Xander fretted over her, but told her that she needed to get over him; he wasn't coming back, Giles, when they spoke, which was getting more and more rare, told her that he was never good for her. Andrew started reciting poetry, which made her cry. Willow, who lived with them, didn't say anything, she understood, after what had happened to Tara, that it just wouldn't help. Nothing could help, except time.  
  
But even Willow seemed to be realizing that that wasn't working. Buffy was like the Buffy-bot most days. She woke up, made breakfast, brushed her teeth and sent Dawn of to school without uttering more than a few sentences. Until noon she trained on her own or read. Until three or four, she sat with Willow and talked, or watched TV, except they never hit any meaningful topics because those would inevitably lead to love, which would lead to Spike, which was not allowed. At four Dina arrived, and they trained until sundown, Buffy made supper for Dawn and then disappeared to her room, the sounds of a CD could be heard throughout the house, and everyone knew it was to muffle the tears she held in all day.  
  
The sounds of Buffy moving around in her room could be heard until almost four in the morning most nights, later sometimes, never earlier. Willow, Dawn and Dina, who spends most nights with them because of an absentee father and drunken mother, had gotten used to it, Dawn, who slept in the room closest to hers, even found Buffy's rhythmic pacing soothing. Dawn missed him too, they had been close- nothing like what he and Buffy had, obviously, but still close. Spike had been both the father and brother that Dawn had never had, taking care of her throughout the summer Buffy was dead and just generally being around when most other people were ignoring her. And now her sister had finally admitted that she was in love with him, and he had not only refused to believe her, he had gone and gotten dusted. Dawn knew that when her sister fell, she fell hard, and that, for some unknown reason, she was refusing to heal.

Everyone in the boarding house knew him, and everyone who had been there for more than a day knew that he was good as dead. He rarely spoke, never ate anything and had never been known to smile. The bartender, a Frenchwoman called Ramona, had always assumed he'd been unlucky in love, though he didn't look old enough for it to have been anything horribly serious. She thought he would leave in a few weeks, go back to his parents, or maybe even the girl who'd done the damage.  
  
Three days after he'd arrived, an older man, maybe in his sixties, also British, had come looking for him, they'd spoken in a secluded booth for an hour or two, before the bleached-blonde man had left, long leather coat whipping as he turned to corner towards the stairs. He hadn't had visitors since. He never used the payphone in the bar, like all the other permanent residents, and had not even once been to the Internet café that the hostel had a deal with. He didn't drink much, but chain-smoked as he sat at the bar nursing whiskey mixed with something in a flask that he kept at his hip.  
  
He was handsome, if depressing to be around, and often found himself the subject of come-ons from the various females at the bar, he was amazingly good at shrugging them off- including the more attractive ones, he was apparently not someone who went in for rebound relationships. Ramona thought that was great- she hated men who fucked to forget the woman they loved and ended up hurting someone else as much as they hurt themselves, Lord knew she'd seen enough of it in her time. Not that she herself fancied him at all, firmly homo, thank-you-very-much, as she liked to tell her male customers. And of course, straight-as-an-arrow, to the ladies, Ramona didn't have much interest, sexually, in anybody. But she was extremely interested in learning the Billy-Idol-look-alike's story.  
  
But, she knows better than to ask unless he's drunk, and apparently that's not happening. He was actually polite, when he does speak- to ask for whiskey, give a tip, or shrug off the latest of his admirers (or, one embarrassing day, query a price). Full of that British nobility that alternately made her what to throttle and hug her customers, depending on her mood. Whenever Buffy closed her eyes, his face flashed across the lids- sneering, smiling, sometimes even in game-face. Quick snippets of things he'd said to her over the years flashed past in her dreams, or whenever there was a silent moment in the house (dinner).  
  
_"I just like them, make me feel all manly."  
  
"We just like to talk big, vampires do. I'm going to destroy the world. It's just tough guy talk. Strut round with your friends over a pint of blood... the truth is, I like this world."  
  
"'Cause God knows you need some satisfaction in life besides shagging Captain Cardboard and... and, I never really liked you anyway, and, and you have stupid hair."  
  
"Oh, right. Stuck in a dark corner with a creature you loathe, digging up past uglies, 'cause you're fine." "Maybe if you had been more honest with her in the first place, you wouldn't be trying to make yourself feel better with a round of Kick the Spike."  
  
"You can't tell me that there isn't anything there between you and me. I know you feel something." "But I want you to know I did save you. Not when it counted, of course, but after that. Ever night after that. I'd see it all again, and do something different."  
  
"The day you suss out what you do want, there'll probably be a parade. Seventy-six bloody trombones."  
  
"Lucky for the bed."  
  
"I love you, you know I do."  
  
"I always want you."  
  
"It's nice to watch you be happy- for them even- I don't see it a lot. You glow."  
  
"William is a bad man. I hurt the girl. I hurt you, Buffy, and I will pay, I am paying."  
  
"I gave him a pass... let him live... on account of the fact that I killed his mother, but that's all he gets. He even so much as looks at me funny again, I'll kill him."  
  
"No! I'm nothing like Angel."  
  
"I've been alive longer than you and dead longer than that. I've seen thing you couldn't imagine. I've done things I preferred you didn't. I've never had a reputation for being a thinker. I follow my blood, which doesn't exactly rush in the direction of my brain. So I make a lot of mistakes, a lot of bloody calls, A hundred plus years and there's only on thing I've ever been sure of... you. I'm not asking you for anything when I say I love you. It's not because I want you, or can't have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I've seen your kindness and your strength. I've seen the best and the worst of you and I understand with perfect clarity what you are. You're a hell of a woman. You're the one, Buffy."  
  
"No you don't, pet, but thanks for saying it."_  
  
And all his cruel words, and his confessions of love, only made her cry now, realizing that she loved him, and had missed her only chance. For Spike, it was only one conversation, over and over again, almost never stopping.  
  
_"I love you."  
  
"No you don't, pet, but thanks for saying it."_  
  
It was true, he hadn't believed her and still didn't. Not after what Giles told him 


	2. Tonight

**Tonight  
**  
**A/N: What I say about London may be slightly off- I've got Toronto's subway maps and street plan in my head constantly, I've only been to London once, this past May, I adore the city and it is the perfect setting I just... know nothing about it ( (this is a smiley face if it comes out as something else on ff). Bear with me. The ridiculous amounts of dialogue are just sort've there. They came out and I couldn't stop them. The scene with Xander and Spike didn't _work _in Spike's POV, which is why it isn't in it.  
**  
"I am going to kill her very shortly," Dawn announced, after leaving Buffy's room, where the former was throwing things at the wall quite violently. "And then accuse her of being a hypocrite. And phone Giles at tell him." Andrew and Dina, who were playing cards on the kitchen table for food looked up at Dawn.  
  
"Hypocrite, why? Thought she was in love with a dead guy," Dina said, Dina was the cause of Buffy's current fit, having just confessed herself to be falling for a vampire, not a vampire with a soul, and not a vampire with any particular feelings for her. "Or is this going to be about Angel again, because I thought we weren't supposed to talk about that..." Dina trailed off, after one disastrous phone call which had ended in the phone being thrown at a guilty-looking Andrew's head and Buffy storming off, Angel hadn't been discussed in the house.  
  
"Well, technically speaking, Spike was dead for a long time before he died," Dawn said and just as Dina was about to open her mouth to protest, "but the government put a chip in his head, so he couldn't hurt anything, he was head over heels in love with Buffy and had a soul- well, he didn't have a soul when they were together, but he had a soul for a year or so before he died."  
  
"Buffy fell in love with a soulless vampire?" Dina said after a pause during which she dropped her cards on the table, and Andrew almost cried as he saw how truly terrible her hand had been.  
  
"He liked food," Dawn offered, "and I think it was more a fuck-buddy thing when he didn't have the soul. They can love without them though, but don't take that the wrong way, please?"  
  
"He liked food, they had done it sans-commitment and this makes crying over him every night alright?" Dina said, with a typical ignorance of anyone's feelings, including Dawn and Andrew's, both of whom had liked Spike.  
  
"Spike loved her," Andrew objected, "and helped her and he took care of Dawn when Buffy was busy being dead."  
  
"I just got a lecture on how something without a soul can't love," Dina pointed out, taking a sip of the glass of Sprite in front of her.  
  
"She's just saying that for the sake of saying it, she'd never come between you if you did get together with him," Dawn said, "Buffy would understand why not to, if anyone would."  
  
"Ooh, do tell," Dina said sarcastically.  
  
"I will, as soon as I finish killing Dawn," Buffy said from the doorway between the kitchen and her bedroom, where she'd appeared at some point during the conversation, ignored by the three. "You weren't supposed to tell her about Spike and you know that. Dating mass murderers isn't exactly what I want on my resume at the moment." She nodded at Dina, "As to your vamp, you prove that he's willing to die for you, I accept it. You decide to get together, I don't interfere, he breaks your heart, and I let you stake him, understood?" Dina nodded, "oh, and if he gets a soul, I let him live in the basement- unless of course a Big Bad puts a trigger on his brain, in which case he gets chained to something."  
  
"Umm..." Dina offered intelligently.  
  
"History of Spike in a nutshell," Dawn explains, "it's a long, twisted story. It involves singing and a robot."  
  
"A robot?" Andrew said faintly.  
  
"You remember the Buffy-bot, don't you?" Buffy said, before making her way over to the stove. She was about to take a pan from the cupboard above it to fry the quesadillas she'd been planning on making for dinner, when the fact that she was talking about Spike without crying hit her, which was when she dropped the pan and ran into her bedroom.

"Hey," the blonde girl said, plopping ungracefully into the seat next to Spike, who murmured some greeting or another into his glass of whiskey and blood. "Don't talk much, do you?" she asked after a moment.  
  
"Not really, no," he answered, against his instincts, this would, inevitably, lead to her making a drunken, clumsy, come-on, which he would have to refuse, causing as little pain as possible, the storm out of the room to think about Buffy and possibly shed a few (manly) tears.  
  
"Why not?" she asked him, "strong but silent is bloody boring," he couldn't help but chuckle at that one, into his whiskey, and not looking up at her.  
  
"True, that, but I'm not in the mood to talk," he replied.  
  
"Love done you wrong?" she asked, teasingly, "you look like the type who wouldn't get hit that hard." Spike laughed out loud and turned to look at her, reasonably pretty, innocent-looking, with loads of white-blond hair and sparkling grey eyes. Definitely not his type- too innocent, and too cheerful. The kind of girl Buffy had been when he'd first met her. And there she was again.  
  
"Looks can be deceiving," he replied, quickly taking a last sip of the liquid before standing up, "I've got to go. Are you staying here?" He asked, wondering which cover story to use to make sure she never came around again.  
  
"No, actually, just here because I heard about the great music," she joked, all they played were schmaltzy love songs, which drove Spike insane, "my friend is, but they say they haven't got any rooms. Willing to share?"  
  
'Abso-bloody-lutely not, but maybe if you're still here in the morning I could introduce you to my kids?" He offered, realizing that after the previous conversation the 'wife' excuse wasn't going to work out all that well.  
  
"Not scared of kids, got a couple of my own," she replied cheerfully, "'sides, yours don't exist- circles under your eyes aren't big enough." He chuckled again.  
  
"Caught me there, but the answer's a big fat no," he said, "emotional only for me- and only one person's emotions." She laughed this time.  
  
"And those aren't forthcoming?"  
  
"She's seeing her ex- who happens to be my ex's si- father, it's all very complicated," he explained cheerfully. Kids didn't scare her- the truth would.  
  
"She dated- dates, your ex's father?" She asked, apparently shocked.  
  
"Long time- likes older men, I think. Her uncle came and told me, which is why I'm here," he replied, "the uncle never liked me much- he and her last boyfriend actually tried to kill me once, it's a long story." He grinned, the last one had gotten to her.  
  
"Dance with me?" She asked, suddenly, "the next song might not be so bad," she grinned, the cheesy nineties pop hit that was playing was winding down. Against his better judgment, Spike nodded. He regretted it the instant they got on the dance floor.  
  
_Wind Beneath My Wings_ was playing.

The slightly pudgy dark haired man at the counter stared as Spike rushed out of the room- if he hadn't known better, he would have though the vampire had been wiping tears from his eyes. The duster snapped as he turned the corner to the stairs, and Xander got up to follow him.  
  
Giles had fallen asleep when Xander had gone to visit him before going to see Buffy for a few days. He had fallen asleep with his Watcher records open and a slightly drunk Xander had flipped through them. Xander had found the entry about Spike, and, at the time, had thought it a good thing. Buffy would do better with a normal partner in life- he had always believed that. That had been before he'd seen Buffy for the first time since Sunnydale. Well, he corrected mentally, he had seen the person Buffy used to inhabit- Buffy was on permanent mental vacation.  
  
It had taken almost three months for him to accept why Buffy was ruined and what Giles had done and it had become his project. He had needed something to do after... after Anya. And with a grim acceptance of the fact that he would never be truly happy again- he'd set out to make Buffy happy. It had taken another month after he had bribed Willow to hack into guest registries in hotels in the area he remembered Giles mentioning for him to get to England and into this bar.  
  
He'd been significantly discouraged when the blonde had made a move on Spike, but then had heard him trying to shrug her off, which hadn't worked, his temper had flared when he accepted the dance- followed by absolute euphoria when Spike ran out of the room at the opening cords of what could have been his wedding song. That he definitely understood.  
  
He got out of his chair and followed Spike up the stairs, but, he thought, with a far lesser deal of snapping leather clothing. Spike had always been one for the dramatics. And he called Xander a pansy. Humph.  
  
Xander didn't bother knocking on Spike's door, just opened it and walked into the small room.  
  
"Hovel-like," he commented, noting the black clothes strewn over the floor and the unmade bed, Spike was sitting in the windowsill, knees brought up to his chest, head bent down to rest on them. Spike didn't even bother turning around.  
  
"Look, don't bother with it, alright? I don't want food, I don't want you to make my bloody bed- if you people would just give me sodding peace I might tip you once in a while," Spike told Xander, or, more accurately, his knees.  
  
"Err, right?" Xander said, more of a question than anything else, "and I suppose it wouldn't interest you at all that Angel's happily ensconced in LA?"  
  
"Evil, but I don't prey on other vamp's girls," he replied, turning his head slightly to look up at Xander, then apparently deciding it wasn't worth it and returning to his previous position.  
  
"And has been since Sunnydale," Xander added, "and hasn't been speaking to Buffy lately because he suggested they try getting back together because you had never been good enough for her and also happened to be dead and then Buffy threw the phone at Andrew, who told him that he shouldn't interfere in Buffy's life? Because, I mean, we're talking about Andrew seeing sense here..." Spike didn't move, Xander decided he was the biggest idiot ever to walk the planet. "Do you hear me? Buffy and Angel aren't together- Giles was just trying to protect her." Spike made a low sound in his throat, but didn't say any actual words. "So, are you over her? I mean, does the thought of Buffy all alone, crying her eyes out every night because she doesn't know that you're back, not touch even the faintest bit of your undead heart? Because, if it doesn't, I'll just tell you that she and Andrew have started a torrid affair and be on my way." Spike turned to look at him, blue eyes cold.  
  
"Look, I know 'Watch the Soul-Equipped Vamp Cry' is a really fun game- but I think you're going a bit far with it," Spike snapped, "besides- who says I even care if Peaches and the Slayer are back together?"  
  
"You just left the room because they were playing Wind Beneath My Wings, that should have been your first dance. Believe me, I know the look," Xander said, "or is it just a weird obsession with bad love songs that Buffy plays sometimes late at night, and hums when she's happy?"  
  
"She hums random notes when she's happy- songs when she's pretending," Spike corrected, cringing the second the words left his mouth.  
  
"And these are the words of a man who hasn't spent seven months in a hotel room thinking about Buffy," Xander said cheerfully. "Look, I was in the same boat once- alright, I haven't screwed Buffy on top of a table- but I was in a boat kind of close to yours. And if I could do it all over again- which I really wish I could- I'd go and screw Buffy senseless right now, except, you know, not Buffy, 'cause I seriously doubt that either of you'd be so happy about that, so Anya. Even if she were dating Angel- which no one is- or having a torrid affair with Andrew- which is just wrong," Xander finished.  
  
"Torrid affairs with Andrew, you on a table with Buffy or Buffy dating Tall Dark and Forehead?" Spike asked sarcastically. Internally trying to process the onslaught of information (and nasty images- including one of Xander and Andrew mid-torridness) that had just been given to him.  
  
"All of the above," Xander replied, "so, you going to do anything about, err, anything?"  
  
"Yes, for I can make decisions involving someone I thought I'd lost to a man who makes his hair stick straight up and screwing the girl I love senseless whilst having a rather strange image of you and Andrew on a coffee table instantaneously," Spike rolled his eyes.  
  
"You know, you may be the Big Bad and all... but I didn't need to think about Andrew naked... ever," Xander said, closing his eyes and trying to think of anything but Andrew naked. "So, will you go home?"  
  
"Sorry 'bout that- you're the one who said his name and 'torrid affair' in the same sentence. How's Niblet been doing?" Spike asked, partially because he wanted to know, partially because he needed the time to think about what Xander had just told him.  
  
"Dawn? Fantastic- all things considered, she and Buffy's Slayer- you know about the Watcher thing?" Spike gave a grunt of assent, "well, she and Buffy's Slayer get along great, and Dawn's turning into mini-you with all the sarcasm, she's had a boyfriend or two since they came to England, but no one serious," Xander grinned as Spike whirled around at the word 'boyfriend'. "All nice enough- the longest one- Gerald, I think- left because Dawn wouldn't sleep with him," Spike let out a relieved breath. "Buffy went on exactly one date," he added, "with Andrew. It was supposed to be a get-over-Spike-and-meet-someone-nice-at-a-bar thing, it turned into a go-to-a-bar-and-cry-in-the-washroom-over-Spike thing. We can't even mention you in everyday conversation." Spike snorted.  
  
"So, how'd you figure what Rupe did?" He switched the topic again- the very thought of Buffy crying was tearing him apart, which, he suspected, Xander had known it would.  
  
"Got drunk and flicked through the Watcher notes, then I saw Buffy," he replied, "easier to accept when you have to deal with that house, and her for a week or two first," Xander shook his head sadly. "She's not like Buffy anymore though- she cries when we mention you, gets angry if the word 'Angel' even comes into a conversation and kills things."  
  
"Sounds like the old Slayer if you just reverse Peaches and me," Spike snapped, "look- she'd be better off with something with a pulse- just give her time." Xander laughed out loud.  
  
"This is nothing like what happened with Angel- with him, she kept up the Buffy-ness, now, she's the Buffy-bot, but without the sex drive," he smiled faintly, the thought of Buffy's current state taking most of the humor out of his tone.  
  
"If you could have Demon-Girl back, would you really go for it?" Spike asked suddenly. Xander flinched at the personal question- Spike may have been his 'closest thing to a male friend' but they did killing each other, or threatening to (then both cowering behind Buffy, though neither cared to admit that), not feelings.  
  
"'Course." Xander said quickly, "in a second- if not less. Well, maybe in about a day," his voice faltered, but he pressed on, "I'd be scared to hurt her, again. Scared that I didn't deserve her. But, then I'd realize that I made her happy the first time 'round- or that I could make her happy now."  
  
"What if you thought it could only end badly- you were too different? Or maybe too alike?" Spike asked, wondering briefly why he was confiding in the Whelp, and finally laying it down to shock at the thought of an available Buffy pining over him, rather than the other way around.  
  
"I'd go back, no matter what. If I could make he happy for just an instant- that would be enough for me," Xander grinned, "this isn't like us."  
  
"No, t'snot" Spike agreed, "won't tell anyone if you don't."  
  
"You'll tell Dawn," Xander said, "or you would if you went back. Will you go back? They miss you. They both love you."  
  
"How's Buffy been doing with taking care of Lil' Bit?" Spike asked, suddenly hungry to hear more details of Buffy's life.  
  
"Better than she was- Dawn still complains that they don't spend enough time together, but she's seventeen now- she's beginning to get Buffy a lot more. Last I talked to her about Buffy they were just letting her heal or something like that," Xander said, "Dawn wonders if you're really dead sometimes, she's still a bit of a romantic, she thinks Buffy would just know and move on if you were."  
  
"Been dead a long, long time- think Buffy knows at this point," Spike snorted.  
  
"Fine then, she figured if you were the dust we were vacuuming out of the curtains, Buffy would know," Xander rolled his eyes, "I think it's romantic nonsense."  
  
"I agree," Spike said, "but then, in Buffy-land, nonsense has a tendency to make sense suddenly, listen to Bit. Buffy would get over me if she actually thought I wasn't coming back- she's strong like that." He grinned faintly.  
  
"So, you're going back?" Xander said after a few moments of trying to figure out the Spike-talk and double entendres in the sentences.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I think I am," Spike said, making his decisions immediately, realizing that the jumble of words that had just come out of his mouth when he was talking just to make noise, had been right. "Where exactly am I going back too? All Giles told me was England, covering all his bases I suppose," Spike snorted dismissively.  
  
"London, Kensington, nice district. Big enough house. Close to Harvey Nicks," Xander choruses what Buffy told him when she bought the house.  
  
"Dru and I lived around there for a bit once, lots of pretty side streets, close to the V&A?" Spike asked, trying to pinpoint the exact area in his hometown- he hadn't been back for years before this, and in the past seven months he'd left the hotel a grand total of two times, but, like any city dweller, the subway map and streets were tattooed across the back of his eyelids and had been since birth. "What tube stop does she use?" It seemed the sort of thing Xander would know.  
  
"Yeah, Gloucester Road, I think," Xander replied.  
  
"Bloody Hell- that's ten minutes from here!" Spike exclaimed, the inn was practically on top of Piccadilly Circus station- prime real estate.  
  
"This is true," Xander observed, almost sarcastically. Things, he could tell, were going to go back to normal between he and Spike. "What, exactly, are you waiting for anyway?" He asked Spike, who had remained in the windowsill for the entire conversation, and was now leaning back against the board behind his head.  
  
"Honestly?" Spike asked, Xander rolled his eyes and nodded, "I'm waiting to wake up. Do you have any clue how many times I've dreamed that she and Peaches weren't together? How many times I've dreamed that she actually did love me?"  
  
"Which, by the way, she does. I predict some good, old-fashioned, groveling to come," Xander grinned, "I'm hoping I can watch."  
  
"I will not grovel," Spike spat out, realizing even as he said it that if he ever hoped to be back in Buffy's good graces, he was going to have to do at least a bit of crawling.  
  
"Trust me, you'll be apologizing for years- or minutes, at least," Xander said, "and two consecutive days will never go by without her reminding you. I know Buffy."  
  
"So do I, mate, and, I would like to point out that I have a much closer view of my relationship with Buffy than you do," Spike said with a snort.  
  
"Homicidal rage, mindless sex, rambling conversations about death, attempted rape, and a huge splash of denial?" Xander suggested, "that about sum it up?"  
  
"You forgot essentially being Dawn's parents for two years, trust, a soul, death, safety and, more importantly, you missed love. You definitely missed love," Spike responded, ticking them off on his fingers. "And Xander?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Thanks."

Dawn was doing her English homework (five hundred words on _Romeo and Juliet_) and cursing Spike for being dust (he could quote Shakespeare without a moment's thought and she knew he had loved _Romeo and Julie_t, even though he would never tell anyone else that, he was, ostensibly the Big Bad) when the phone rang.  
  
"Hello," she said cheerily, glad to get an excuse to stop working for a few minutes.  
  
"Hey, Dawnster, how's it going?" Xander's voice came over the line.  
  
"Good, boring, stupid English homework," Dawn replied, "where are you?"  
  
"Piccadilly Circus," he answered.  
  
"You're not even supposed to be in the country until tomorrow!" Dawn said, excited, she and Xander had always gotten along well, and she was excited to see him- he had been living in Vegas of all places, and even though he phoned almost every other day, she knew that everyone missed him.  
  
"I had something to do- wasn't sure how long it was going to take, but it didn't go on as long as I thought it would, so I figured you four wouldn't mind if I showed up a day early. Actually, that's what I want to talk to you about, I know you're giving me the guest bedroom- but is there any chance I could bring someone else along, do you guys have room?"  
  
"I'll ask Bu-" Dawn began, but Xander cut her off.  
  
"Don't ask Buffy- just guess, do you have an extra bed?" Xander said quickly, Dawn heard someone with a British accent mumbling something dismissive in the background before she replied.  
  
"Yeah- our couch is your couch. Or the couch of whoever you're bringing with you," Dawn responded. She figured Xander had probably dredged up Riley or brought along Giles, maybe. Though the thought of Giles sleeping on a couch made her giggle. He had been living in the country, very firmly retired since Sunnydale, and even though he was on the same continent, they rarely saw him. And, for some reason, he hardly ever phoned any more- he said it was just that Buffy didn't need him, Dawn had always suspected it was something more. Last time he had been in London, six months ago, he had seemed almost, Dawn paused to think of the word, guilty.  
  
She returned to the English homework but couldn't concentrate at all, something was flitting around in the back of her mind. Something about the phone call had caught her subconscious's attention, and it wasn't feeling inclined to share anything with her. She closed her notebook with an unsatisfying slam of paper against paper, and moved to knock on Buffy's bedroom door.  
  
"Buff?" She asked when there was no sign of movement in the room after a few moments.  
  
"Dawnie I'm... I'm changing, I'll be out in a minute," Buffy said weakly, clearly still in tears, Dawn thought it was probably a good thing that she was pretending not to have been crying.  
  
"Like anyone believes that," Dawn snorted, "Xander's in the country, he's getting here tonight- in like ten minutes, actually. He's at Piccadilly."  
  
"He's where?" Buffy exclaimed, throwing open the windows to reveal mussed up hair, mascara smudged eyes and a tear-streaked face. "Bloody fucking- I didn't say that by the way- hell!"  
  
"Do you realize what the look on Spike's face will be the first time he hears you use the word 'bloody' as an expletive?" Dawn asked suddenly. Even as the future tense came out of her mouth, she realized what had been nagging at her- that dismissive British noise- it had been Spike, she was sure of it.  
  
"Insensitive much?" Andrew said, having walked into the kitchen just in time to hear the end of the conversation.  
  
"Err, right, sorry Buffy... it just came out of my mouth," Dawn said, "you should shower, you look dead."  
  
"Thank you, Dawn, for the inspiring pep-talk," Buffy sighed, before closing the door in her sister's face, it was quickly followed by the sound of her shower being turned on. 


	3. To Hold You Forever

**To Hold You Forever  
  
A/N: Right, I realize this chapter is ridiculously short, but it was just the perfect place to end it before I got into all the angsty stuff with Giles... so I, er, ended it. I know I promised a Giles flashback in this chapter, but it didn't fit, definitely next chapter. Love to all of the reviewers! You people are my favourite people in the world!!!  
  
Disclaimer: I own bull.  
**  
Buffy was still in the shower when Dawn and Andrew, who had been bickering in the kitchen, heard the front door open. Dawn almost flew down the hallway, not even pausing for an instant before hurling herself at Spike, burying her face in his shoulder.  
  
"You are never leaving this house again," she muttered into his shoulder, Spike laughed, then pulled her back to get a better look at her.  
  
"You've grown, Bit, proper young lady now," he remarked, kissing her forehead. "You don't look particularly surprised to see me- the Whelp tell you?" Xander made an indignant noise and Spike stuck his tongue out at him.  
  
"Heard you on the phone, and, no I didn't tell Buffy," she grinned, "not in so many words, anyway."  
  
"God I missed you," he laughed, pulling her to him again. "Where's Slayer?"  
  
"Back bedroom- but she's showering," Dawn said, gesturing towards the hallway.  
  
"And this is supposed to matter to me, why?" Spike asked. Dawn chuckled and moved to greet Xander, hugging the vampire tightly once more before she moved over.  
  
"Spike- you going to go get her?" Dawn asked a few moments later, since Spike hadn't moved, then she followed his line of vision to the doorway, where, she noticed for the first time, Buffy was standing perfectly still. In a bra and panties, the red silk robe she'd been apparently holding at her feet on the floor.  
  
When they reflected on the moment later, no one would know who had made the first move, it seemed like no time elapsed between when Spike and Buffy were just looking at each other, examining, looking for any changes and when Buffy was firmly ensconced in Spike's arms, sobbing into his shoulder as he smoothed down her hair. Dawn pulled Xander towards the hallway that lead to the entranceway and into the family room, grabbing Andrew, who had made his way into the corridor as she went.

"This," she hissed at both, who were looking at her a bit perplexedly, "is probably the most important moment of Spike and Buffy's lives to date, we," she gestured at both of them, giving a particularly menacing look at Andrew, "are going to let them be until they want to talk to us." Xander opened his mouth to defend himself, "and they will thank you," she pointed to Xander, "if I even see you within thirty feet of a camera," she had rounded on Andrew again, "you do not want to know what's going to happen. I may have Spike turn me just so I can have the pleasure of draining the blood from your body."  
  
"What, exactly, happened to nice, innocent, sweet little Dawnie?" Xander asked, sinking into one of the large armchairs in the room, not feeling particularly inclined to disobey Dawn at that moment.  
  
"She spent quality time with her sister, probably," Andrew said, throwing himself down on the couch.Spike and Buffy held on to each other for what, to them, seemed like a few seconds, but in the real world, was almost an hour. Spike finally pulled back to see her face, to examine her closely, see if she was really as bad as Xander had said. She had been crying the entire time he'd been holding her, and the tears were still silently pouring down her face, he suppressed an urge to kiss them away, instead taking on cool hand and cupping her face, running his thumb along her wet cheek.  
  
She took the moment to examine him, he was, if it was possible, paler than when she'd last seen him, and for once he hadn't gelled back his hair, or maybe he didn't do that at all anymore at all. He was wearing a duster- though she assumed it couldn't have been the one he'd taken from the Slayer thirty years ago. As he began to trace the contours of her face, she looked up into his clear blue eyes and pulled back suddenly. Spike flinched.  
  
"You're dust," she informed him, "and I'm dreaming. And, while I'm going to admit it's a fabulous dream. It's just my subconscious giving me what I want."  
  
"So, Slayer, you know what you want now?" Spike asked, remembering something he'd said a long time ago, and moving to get her back in his arms, he felt wrong without her touch, but she pulled back.  
  
"All I want is you... and you're probably the one thing I can't have," she looked at the ground, then turned and slowly walked back to the doorway, where she'd left her robe, shrugging it on and willing herself to wake up. "Following this theory, I'm going to my bedroom to wait to wake up."  
  
"And if you don't?" Spike asked, moving to follow her, intent on never letting her out of his sights again.  
  
"I will, trust me, I will," she said, turning to look at him, "and when I do, you won't be there. Which, by the way, will hurt more than you could humanely imagine. So I'm cutting the pain short. You're dust, I'm alone. Period," she said, continuing to walk.  
  
"This is real, Buffy, I'm standing right here," Spike said, she smiled wistfully.  
  
"You tell me that every night," she said, "and every night, I know it's a lie. Tonight, I'm not listening."  
  
"Buffy, you sodding idiot, I'm real, you're not dreaming, and you're making this entire sappy reunion thing really exasperating, I think you're the only person I know who could do that," Spike said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Now, pinch yourself or something to convince yourself you're not dreaming, and come here. I don't particularly want to spend another second without you."  
  
"You never use my name," she whispered, bringing a hand to her arm and stabbing a nail into it, she flinched at the pain. "This is real." And this time there was no question of who made the first move as she hurled herself at him suddenly, burying herself into his duster, reveling in the smell of whiskey, cheap cologne, cigarettes and blood that was Spike. "You're real," she mumbled to his neck, "I missed you. And you're not leaving me ever again. I love you. And," she pulled back, looking into his eyes, but staying in his arms, "you once told me that saying that had nothing to do with you, well, at the time I didn't get it... but now I do. So, when I tell you I love you, and I don't give a damn what you think, I'm going to, it's never going to be about me, but it's never going to be about you. It's going to be about us." She paused, "there is going to be an us, isn't there? You're not going to up and lea-" she didn't get the words out of her mouth before he capture her lips with his.  
  
They had kissed before, hundreds, maybe even thousands of times, but never softly. That just wasn't them. And, to both of them, this seemed like a first kiss. Tentative, filled with the promise of happily-ever-after, and, for once, it seemed simple. Girl meets boy simple, romantic comedy simple. Buffy and Spike simple. The gentle exploration of his mouth wasn't really exploration- she knew it inside out, every bump, the faint hint of his incisors and that indefinable taste, she was just reacquainting herself with it. He was doing the same thing, re-learning the ways to make her smile against his lips, tracing the words 'I love you' out with his tongue against the roof of her mouth.  
  
"God, Slayer..." he breathed when they separated.  
  
"You're good at synonyms," she giggled, resting her forehead against his, he smiled and bent down to kiss her on the lips.  
  
"I am never letting you go again," he breathed, holding her waist tighter. "Ever."  
  
"Good," she replied, "that is definitely a good thing." Spike chuckled. "You have no idea how much I missed you."  
  
"I think I might," she smiled, "I missed you more. Ask anyone. How long have you been..." she trailed off, pulling back slightly, taking a deep breath. "How long have you been back?"  
  
"Well, before I reply to that question I'm getting a very firm promise from you not to hit me until you hear the whole story, that a deal pet?" He asked, Buffy broke into a smile when he used the old nickname.  
  
"Do you have any idea how much I missed your stupid pet names?" She laughed, "a man on the tube called me 'love' and I almost had a heart attack." Spike chuckled and captured her lips for another moment.  
  
"Promise?" He asked.  
  
"Anything," Buffy whispered , then considered it, "you'd better have a damned good excuse for not being on my doorstep the second you were back, or I will retract that promise."  
  
"That defeats the purpose of a promise, love," Spike pointed out, kissing her lightly on the lips.  
  
"Spi-ike," she whined, Spike laughed and kissed her again.  
  
"Is there somewhere more comfortable we could go? It's a bit of a long story," he said.  
  
"Kitchen's at the end of the hall, doorway closest to the table's my bedroom," she said, then pulled a hand up to his cheek, "our bedroom?" It was a question. Spike nodded, and his blue eyes clouded with tears, Buffy reached up and ran her index finger under his right eye, delicately trailing the nail along the skin.  
  
"Yeah, love, our bedroom," he managed hoarsely. She smiled widely, and he couldn't help but hug her again. Then he swept her up in his arms, kissing her open lips as she gasped.  
  
"Spike, what in hell's name are you doing?" She asked as he walked down the hallway.  
  
"Why, carrying you over the threshold, of course, love." 


	4. Lovers Lost In Sweet Desire

**Lovers Lost In Sweet Desire  
  
A/N: And, welcome to four full pages of absolute fluffiness. No smut because I'm no good at writing it- implied. So if pre-marital sex and innuendo bug you- go be elsewhere. Much love to reviewers, as always.  
  
Disclaimer: Joss owns it all. Joss is also, coincidentally, evil for not sending Spike back to Buffy and the Immortal? Hmph.**

* * *

Spike lay Buffy down on the bed, and made to settle down beside her on his back.  
  
"Liar," she accused. Spike turned and raised an eyebrow at her, "you let go of me," she accused. He laughed and rolled over, pulling his arms tightly around her and settling his chin on the crown of her head.  
  
"Won't happen again, love," he promised, dropping a kiss on her forehead. She curled into his cool chest.  
  
"How long?" she asked him after a few moments of silence.  
  
"'Round seven months," Spike said finally, he felt Buffy tense before she rolled away from him, getting up off the bed.  
  
"Seven months?" she whispered, "and you didn't... I was here the whole time... crying for you, loving you and you were..." She looked at him, "you left me. How on earth could I think you were any different? I was alone and you left me, just like every other man in my life. God, Spike- William, I thought you were different," she turned to the wall. Spike got off the bed and put his hands on her shoulders, she flinched, but didn't step away from him.  
  
"And I am, love, I am," he said, "do you want to hear my story?"  
  
"Will I want to forgive you when you're done? Because if I won't- I just want to physically lose you again. Not mentally," Buffy whispered.  
  
"And I'm going to pretend that made sense, love," Spike said, "and, hopefully, if you believe me, you will forgive me. Because, yes, as always I fucked up. And, as always, sorry isn't enough. But, for once, please forgive me, is. Based on this, I'll tell you the story, ask you to forgive me, and probably atone for a bit," she let out a small sound that could have been laughter, "but I will not brood, and, despite what the Whelp may think, I will definitely not grovel."  
  
"So, no groveling, no apologies, just a typical Spike screw up?" she asked him.  
  
"This has gone beyond a Spike screw up, definitely a William," he said, "for Spike screw-ups I can just screw you 'till you forget what I did." She couldn't help but a laugh a little at that.  
  
"I'm listening." And Spike moved her onto the bed, settling her in his lap, she rested her head against his solid, cool shoulder, and listened as he told her, tears from both of them bringing his story to an occasional halt.

* * *

_Spike had simply woken up alive one evening. In the crater that was once Sunnydale, he had, at first, thought to stay there until morning- every part of his body was aching, blood pouring from every cut, and his head was screaming as if fifty chips had been put in and he had just committed mass murder. His first thought wasn't for her, which scared him, it was only a word 'why?'  
  
His second thought of course, was "Buffy, where's Buffy?" He sprung up to his feet at that, and realized that it was a damned good question. Even if every part of him still hurt, the thought that she was still alive- and he hoped to God that she was- had brought him to his feet. He had found one of the roads that had once led into Sunnydale a few miles off, and hitched a ride in a truck, with a truly disgusting trucker, who told him fourteen times that he was English. Spike would have very much liked to have killed him.  
  
In LA he had gone to Wolfram and Hart, hoping that his poof of a grandsire would give him a bit of ready money. He had been told that Angel was away on business. He'd left. Luckily, at a bar, he'd run into a vamp he'd known a long time back, who'd given him some questionable cash.  
  
He'd gotten a plane to England, knowing that the Watcher's Council would have to restart, probably in England, and that Buffy would be a part of that no matter what. Whether she liked it or not, making sure no other Slayer went through as much as she had, would be a huge part of her life. He'd booked into a hotel that he knew from demon hearsay was accommodating to most vamps and a few of the less noticeable types of demons. The fact that one of the biggest cities in the world rested on a Hellmouth meant, at least, that demon activity wasn't concentrated. In Sunnydale, rumors had spread, here it was just a few places that were already eerie that got bad reps.  
  
He had been at the inn for a week, slowly sussing out the latest news, trying to figure out where she lived, when Giles had appeared. He could still remember every word of the conversation.  
  
"Buffy sent me," Giles had started out with. "She knows you're back and doesn't want you to come anywhere near her."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Aside from the painfully obvious? She and Angel are doing well together, she thinks you could ruin that."  
  
"She and Peaches?"  
  
"She and Angel."  
  
"How long?"  
  
"It's none of your business. She doesn't want you. Stay out of her life."  
  
Things had gone downhill from there, the conversation had been long, and Spike had hardly managed to get anything out of the former Watcher. Just that he had been right, Buffy was living in England, rebuilding the council. With Angel's help. Spike had never wanted death more.  
  
Over the next six and a half months, he had constantly pondered staking himself, it had seemed a brilliant idea. But the idea of letting Buffy and his idiot of a grandsire win had disgusted him, for a few weeks he had even renewed his promise of dancing on the Slayer's grave. Then, of course, eventually, he'd stopped living solely out of spite. He'd lived for her before when she didn't give a damn, he'd do it again. He'd just have to get used to the real world in the microcosm of the hotel until he was ready to face everything again.  
  
Then Xander had come, god, it didn't seem like it had only been a few hours ago... He had never felt more relieved in his un-life. And now he was here.  
_

* * *

"Giles?" Was all Buffy managed to get out at the end of the story. Her heart was telling her not to believe Spike, to phone Giles and get the truth out of him to confirm it. But, her mind was very calmly spelling it out.  
  
_This is **Spike**.  
  
He **loves** you.  
  
He would **not** hurt you.  
  
Not anymore.  
  
Not if he didn't **have** to.  
_  
And the calm, secure, Slayer Buffy, decided that this would be a convenient time to go on vacation as she crumbled backwards in a faint, trusting subconsciously that Spike would be there to catch her.

* * *

Half an hour later, Spike was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking the blood and whiskey from his flask, and trying to explain to Dawn, Willow and Andrew how he had returned, while keeping an ear on Buffy's bedroom, preparing to be there the second she woke up.  
  
"Where's Slayer's slayer?" he asked, once he had finally pounded the idea of 'not-the-First-in-disguise" into Andrew's head.  
  
"Probably on patrol, or out macking with her love of the week- a vampire, by the way, Buffy wants her dead," Dawn supplied, "she's a bit of a wildcard. Not exactly Faith, but close enough to make Buffy's head almost explode on a weekly basis."  
  
"She any good?" Spike asked.  
  
"The best- well, not quite as good as Buffy, but she will be," Dawn smiled at Spike, "she's good with fledglings, God knows, but anything bigger than that and she likes a bit of help."  
  
"Have I missed any apocalypses?" Spike asked, they seemed to be a yearly occurrence. Dawn laughed and shook her head. "That's good then. How've you been, Whelp says you've had a few boyfriends?"  
  
"Yeah, Gerald, the horny one, Ramon, the idiotic one and Spencer, the nice, proper, English one. Needless to say none of those worked out," Dawn tossed a dismissive hand, "Spence thought a near death experience was almost ingesting a carbohydrate. I need someone who gets what I've been through, like you and Buffy," she nodded thoughtfully. She toyed with her spoon for a minute, "you two did good- for once." Spike laughed appreciatively.  
  
"So, why didn't you just kill Angel, I mean, I thought that was sort of your thing?" Andrew interrupted the moment.  
  
"He's my Grandsire," Spike supplied, "and I want Buffy happy- not in murderous rage."  
  
"Murderous rage makes Buffy happy," Dawn said, she and Spike laughed, Andrew looked confused for a moment.  
  
"That it does, Bit," Spike smiled, sparing a moment to listen intently to Buffy's heartbeat in the other room, still nice and slow, she was tired. "What about school?"  
  
"Doing well, no demons and my principal is completely personal-anti-Spike- vendetta free, though he did flirt with Buffy on parent teacher night. Then his wife came over and introduced herself," she said quickly, noticing the tensing of Spikes hand on the handle of his mug.  
  
"That's good," Spike said, quirking an eyebrow at her, she grinned. "What're you doing when you graduate?"  
  
"Truthfully?" Dawn asked, Spike rolled his eyes and nodded, "I have no fucking clue."  
  
"_Dawn_!"  
  
"Spike, I'm eighteen."  
  
"Doesn't mean I have to like it."  
  
"I give up," Dawn sighed.  
  
"Any ideas?" Spike asked, and Dawn happily started babbling about art college or an English degree from Oxford.

* * *

When Buffy woke up, it was an upward dive into reality. She sat up suddenly and took a deep breath, trying to remember what had gotten her to sleep so early, it came back to her gradually, in reverse order. Fainting, Spike's story, being carried down the hall, kissing Spike, hugging him, seeing him in the front hall... This all culminated into her sitting up suddenly.  
  
"Spike!" she whispered. It took about five seconds for the peroxide-haired vampire to appear at her side.  
  
"Yeah, love?" He asked, settling on the edge of her bed, where he had tucked her in, and snaking an arm around her waist. She leant against his shoulder.  
  
"You know I believe you, right?"  
  
"I know," he sighed, "I was kind of hoping you wouldn't. I know how close you and Giles are."  
  
"Were," she said, "since Sunnydale... well, I figured out what I wanted, and Giles didn't like it. Perfect Slayer Buffy was supposed to move on really quickly and all that. I didn't want to."  
  
"Perfect Slayer Buffy isn't a hell of a lot of fun," Spike remarked, "I take it you and she have had a falling out of sorts?"  
  
"Of sorts," She grinned, "I missed you so much."  
  
"Missed you too," he said, kissing her shoulder.  
  
"Are you sure you want to stay?" Buffy asked him. "Because, I mean... you've got this whole new life, and I treated you like shit for so long that I don't deserve this any more, so if you wanted to go and just start over- without all the Sunnydale stuff hanging over your head, you could. I mean wanting to be with me is noble- and I know you, lately you've liked doing the noble thing- but if you don't want-" She was cut off by Spike bringing his free hand to her mouth.  
  
"Slayer, I wanted to come back, I want to be with you, I promised that I'd always have your back, and I intend to keep that promise," he grinned, "good for the ego to hear you calling me noble though." She bit him. He laughed loudly, and quickly smothered her lips with his. Somewhere through the faint haze that surrounded that night, they heard Xander offering to take everyone out for a very late movie. Willow, Dawn, Xander and Andrew got back at noon the next day.

* * *

Buffy sent Spike into the kitchen the next morning to make her breakfast, he actually obeyed her command, but she did have to bribe him with sex. He was wearing the pair of black jeans he'd been in the night before, but he hadn't bothered with a shirt (mostly because he hadn't brought clothes with him and Buffy had torn his to shreds the previous night), and mixing pancake batter.  
  
"Um, is this some new vamp plot? Stake out my kitchen?" A petite brunette with purple and blue streaks in her hair, wearing head to toe black and a hell of a lot more mascara than even Spike thought was strictly necessary asked him, appearing at the door. Spike would have laughed if she hadn't been holding a stake and looking like she was going to use it.  
  
"Right, you'd be the new Slayer then," Spike sighed, debating on waking Buffy (grumpy morning-after Slayer, definitely not of the good) or on trying to convince her that he wasn't evil. "Let's start with a few basic pointers- I'm in your house, therefore, I got an invite. Now, you may be under the regime of that twit- love her as I do, it's true," Spike threw in, just in case by some horrid coincidence, Buffy was awake and listening, with a gesture towards her bedroom, "but it's vamp one-oh-one, no one you don't trust in the house. Therefore, someone who lives here, trusts me."  
  
"Andrew lives here," she pointed out.  
  
"Good point," Spike conceded heavily.  
  
"You love Buffy?"  
  
"Mm."  
  
"Angel?"  
  
"_BLOODY FUCKING HELL NO_!"  
  
"Buffy have some sort of demon fetish she never told anyone about, then?"  
  
"Spike, stop yelling," Buffy said faintly from the bedroom, "and no loud British obscenity in the kitchen. House rule."  
  
"You have a house rule about British obscenity in the kitchen?" Spike said to no one in particular, then to Buffy, with a trademark smirk, "Well, you definitely don't have one about the bedroom." It took about a second for Buffy to be at the bedroom door with a pillow, which she then whipped at Spike, which he then easily caught and put on the counter next to his bowl of batter.  
  
"Perversion of youth, you don't want another Dawn on your hands, now do you?" She teased, coming over from the door and slipping her arms around his waist, resting a cheek on his bare chest. "Morning."  
  
"Hi? Very confused Slayer here, desperately trying to renew belief in Buffy being a totally nonsexual being. And, again, who the bloody hell are you and why are you cooking in my kitchen this early in the morning?" Dina interrupted. "'Cause, you know, last I checked Spike was dead and you were just hitting the thinking about getting over him stage..." She trailed off helpfully.  
  
"You were going to get over me... there's a topic we definitely didn't hit last night," Spike said, teasingly.  
  
"Eventually, you're not all that special," Buffy grinned, "did she just crush poor little Spikey's ego?" Buffy gave him a simpering expression.  
  
"I will never kiss you again if that bloody awful nickname every finds it's way out of your mouth again," Spike hissed.  
  
"But _Spikey_..." She pouted, she made puppy eyes. Spike gave in. He kissed her quickly.  
  
"Whipped," she murmured against his lips.  
  
"You sleep with a stake under your pillow, it's out of fear for my un- life."  
  
"Ahem. Cough. Cough," Dina vocalized.  
  
"Err, right, sorry Dee," Buffy sighed, "and here we go with the uncomfortable explanations. I never found Giles naked with a shirtless vampire in his kitchen... Not," she spat after a look from Spike, "that he was exactly the perfect model for a Watcher. So, Dee, this would be vampire lover number two- the one with no fashion sense. His credentials include having died a grand total of two times, searching for souls, a very filthy tongue," Spike stuck it out at her, "killer abs and a hell of a lot more testosterone than is truly good for a person," Spike and Dee both looked at her puzzled, "observe: Angel." Spike's fist clenched around the bottom of the sheet Buffy was wrapped in of it's own free will. "Spike, this is Dina Taylor. Bane of my existence. She's an idiot and is trying to date the undead."  
  
"Which you would never even imagine doing," Dina snapped.  
  
"Soul-less, evil, undead, chip-less, bad hair," Buffy complained. Then she pushed Spike forward, gesturing as she spoke the next sentence, "Ensouled, mildly annoying- what, you're not evil and you know it-, undead, was all chipped-up when he was soulless, and since it's not all greased back, good hair. Bad vampire- less bad vampire."  
  
"Good to know I'm so highly thought of," Spike grumbled.  
  
"I love you, you know I do," Buffy giggled. Dina looked disgusted. Spike pushed her away and into the bedroom.  
  
"Get dressed," he growled after her. 


	5. Give A Part of Me I Thought I'd Never

**Give A Part of Me I Thought I'd Never**

**A/N: It's all Joss's. I don't like Joss. But I do like his creations. Hope you like my lovely fluff. If you do not like fluff, I would leave. **

"Buffy, love, you're going to have to do it eventually," Spike sighed as Buffy dropped the phone back into it's holder for the fourteenth time in fifteen minutes.  
  
"Eventually as in say, thirty years from now? Would that be good?" Buffy asked meekly, they were sitting on her bed, she was leaning up against Spike's bare chest, and, supposedly, they were calling Giles to confront him. In reality, they were edging closer and closer to a fight.  
  
"Slayer," Spike warned, putting on the face he used to put the fear of God into Dawn and, for that matter, Buffy.  
  
"Let's not fight," Buffy sighed letting her head fall back onto his shoulder so she could look him in the eye.  
  
"I don't think I could stand being mad at you too at this point in the day." She'd already fought with Xander about talking to Giles, Dawn about going to a club that night and Dina about the new vampire boyfriend. Who had killed someone the previous night, this was not exactly good meet-the-Watcher behavior, and Buffy was pissed.  
  
"I wasn't going to start anything, pet," Spike said, lying like a rug.  
  
"_Spike_."  
  
"Err, anything that would end in fisticuffs is what I meant."  
  
"_Spike_."  
  
"Just phone the Watcher." Buffy sighed and picked up the phone, "don't worry about it, pet, and don't bloody hang up this time. The phone bills are going to kill you when they get here."  
  
"Nice to know I'm being taken care of," she murmured while she dialed.  
  
"Like you'd let me take care of you, I'd just get a lecture on what a chauvinistic bastard I am," Spike complained.  
  
"Shut up," Buffy commanded. Spike obeyed and pulled her down so she was lying on top of him, with his arms encircling her waist tightly. The phone was right by his ear and he could hear both sides of the conversation.  
  
"Look, Mrs. Phaedros, I don't give a damn if you don't think this is 'respectable' for your daughter, it is her calling, and she will be part of it. She's a Slayer and that will always be part of her life- the most important part of her life," Giles snapped before Buffy could speak.  
  
"I know that's the way you think, Giles," Buffy said, "but not all Slayers agree."  
  
"Buffy, how are you? It's great to hear from you," Giles said, happy not to have to deal with the insane mother of the Greek Slayer that he and Faith had found a few weeks before. "Not all Slayers have the wisdom you did."  
  
"I wasn't all that wise back in Sunnyhell," Buffy said, "I have news!"  
  
"Really, Buffy what's that?" Giles asked, hoping that it had nothing to do with Buffy's Slayer, who he had briefly trained, and hated with passion.  
  
"I found my man," Buffy said, Spike placed a delicate kiss on the side of her neck as she said it.  
  
"I'm glad, Buffy, in the past you've made some very bad decisions about your love life."  
  
"Yeah, that I have," as Buffy agreed Spike slid another kiss along her shoulder.  
  
"I do hope he's significantly less demonic than your last... erm," Giles stumbled, not knowing quite how to refer to Spike.  
  
"Than the last person I slept with, you mean, don't worry about it, you can say it, hell, just say fuck-buddy if you feel like it. No regrets," Buffy smiled softly as she felt Spike tense beneath her, "well, one. And, yes, this one has a soul."  
  
"That's a definite improvement. How did you meet?"  
  
"Actually, he tried to kill me," Buffy said offhand, chuckling as Spike's body shook under hers.  
  
"This is sounding familiar. Is he at least nicer than your last..."  
  
"Honestly, just spit it out Giles. And yes, he is the kindest, most handsome, most loving, best, noblest and  
  
bravest man," Buffy emphasized more for Spike than for Giles, "I have ever had the luck to find."  
  
"Are you in love with him?"  
  
"Yes, completely, head over heels," Buffy squirmed a bit as Spike kissed the back of her neck again, a bit harder. She covered the phone with her hand and whispered, "later, promise."  
  
"How long have you known him?"  
  
"Oh, God, about," Buffy quickly counted on her fingers, "seven years, give or take a few months."  
  
"You... you knew him in Sunnydale?"  
  
"So did you- he was sort of just outside the Scooby unit," Buffy grinned, waiting for realization to dawn.  
  
No one ever said Spike's sadism wasn't catching.  
  
"How long has Riley been in London then? And wasn't he married?" Buffy burst into giggles.  
  
"It's not Riley, Giles."  
  
"Oz?" He suggested, the hope very clear in his voice.  
  
"Don't think he's really my type."  
  
"And since when have you even had a type?"  
  
"Oh, I've got a type, strong, taller than I am, blue eyes, blonde hair- well, not so much blonde as white- pale, relatively tan-resistant, holy-water challenged, wonderful- you know, the standard," Buffy had been getting bored, and she wanted the conversation over with. And as soon as she heard the intake of breath on the other end of the line, and the distinct pause while Giles wiped off his glasses, she bit down on her lips hard enough to draw blood, this was not going to be fun. Spike slid out from underneath her, intending to leave her alone to have this conversation, but she grabbed his hand and pulled him back down on the bed.  
  
"Buffy- how did you... when did- why- who?"  
  
"Xander told us. He found it in your Watcher notes," She was halfway between anger and tears, "I can't believe you would do this to me. To us."  
  
"He's not good for you, Buffy. This can't end well."  
  
"And the only way to find that out is by not even letting us try."  
  
"Did this work out last time? Slayer and Vampire?"  
  
"Spike isn't Angel. Angel isn't Spike. I highly doubt Spike is going to suck the world into hell any time soon. Did Angel know about this, by the way? I was hoping that not ever man I trust- or trusted- was involved."  
  
"He's a vampire, Buffy, evil, ringing any bells here? No, Angel has no clue."  
  
"He got his soul for me, he's not just a vampire any more. He may be that, but he's also William, a man."  
  
"No, Buffy, no matter how much you delude yourself, he will always be a vampire. And constitutionally incapable of love."  
  
"If you would just get your head out of what your damned books say for one second, Giles, you would realize that Spike saved the world and Spike saved me, more times than I can count. And I am not 'incapable of love'- even according to your stupid books- and I loved him. I love him. And you... you put me through pure hell because of what you thought. You hurt two people because of an insensi-"  
  
"Now, Buffy, I think you're overreacting just a little bit."  
  
"OVERREACTING!" Buffy screeched, making Dawn and Dina, who'd been in Dawns' bedroom chatting, jump at the unexpected noise. Xander shook his head in the kitchen, he'd known this would end in someone fighting, he just wondered who. Giles might have deserved it, but he doubted that Spike, who was also in the bedroom, did.  
  
"Bloody hell, Slayer, that used to be my eardrum," he heard Spike groan. So it was Giles than, if they'd been that close together. "And stop eavesdropping, Whelp." Damned vampiric hearing, "now, Slayer," Spike said, in his most patronizing tone, the one that made Buffy's inner five-year-old cringe, "give me the phone. It will not help to make him deaf. Calm down a minute and you can have it back."  
  
"Spike, you're not my father," she groaned.  
  
"Damn straight. I'm not going to leave you any time soon, and I'm going to take care of you. Which means making sure than you don't break the Watcher. Now, give me the phone," Spike looked into her eyes, and she handed him the phone without another word.  
  
"But I want to break the watcher," Buffy whined, half-teasingly. Spike sighed, pulling the phone to his ear and wrapping an arm around her waist. He deserved a few punches at Giles as well.  
  
"Watcher," he greeted.  
  
"Spike," it was terse, he knew Spike's temper well, and was wondering just what, exactly, he was in for.  
  
"Look, I know you're not going to give a flying damn that you hurt me, which also doesn't matter in the slightest to me. But you hurt Buffy and that does matter to you, and, however little you want it, me."  
  
"I didn't hurt her as much as you will, someday."  
  
"Do you really think I'm that selfish?"  
  
"You're a vampire. You take what you can get. You've fooled her into taking your obsession for love, it won't end well."  
  
"Perhaps it won't, but do you think that I would have come back to Buffy if there was even the slightest chance that I would hurt her? Do you really think that little of me?"  
  
"Yes and yes."  
  
"At one time, that was true, Watcher. I won't lie about that. I've been a monster. I continue to be a monster. But, I've come a long way, and, I'd like to believe that I'm more man than monster now. And I think Buffy will agree with me when I give you a chance. Apologize, let her lead her own life, for once, or leave. Those are the options. Here, talk to her." Spike held out the phone to the blonde glaring daggers at him.  
  
"I could open those curtains right now," she threatened, still glaring at him.  
  
"But you wouldn't."  
  
"Why are you so damned calm?"  
  
"'Cause, now take the phone."  
  
"I hate you."  
  
"I know. Take the phone."  
  
"Why me?" Buffy said, and took the phone, "you heard him. Why he said it, I don't actually know, but you heard him. And I guess I've sort of got to go along with the whole thing now."  
  
"Thank you, Slayer, I was even using Red's resolve voice," Spike groused.  
  
"I can't support this choice," Giles told her.  
  
"Then you'll have to leave. Because I can't make another one. Not this time. I'm sorry, Giles, but Spike's  
  
right. It's my life, it's my choice, and I've made it. Giles, I've been hurt a lot, by love, if I've learned one  
  
thing about it- it's leaves. Angel left me, Riley left me. So I promised that I'd never do it again, never give  
  
myself entirely to another person. But, without knowing it, I've given that part of me that I've kept from  
  
everyone else, including you, to Spike, and I can't take it back. I can't let him leave. I can't live without him, my heart would stop. You, I can live without. It'll be damn hard, but I can.  
  
"Goodbye, Giles." She put the phone back in its cradle.  
  
"You alright?" Spike asked, knowing she wasn't, hoping she wouldn't lie about it.  
  
"No," Buffy murmured rolling into his cool chest, "did I do the right thing?"  
  
"Do you think it was what was right for you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Giles?"  
  
"At the moment, I don't really care."  
  
"Me?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then you did the right thing. You're a Slayer, love, you've made hard decisions before."  
  
"For the better of the entire world. Not for me," She sighed, "this isn't 'serving the greater purpose' or  
  
whatever it is that I always say when I have to hurt someone I love, this is just about me being happy. This is going to sound really egotistical, but that feels bigger."  
  
"You're my world," Spike whispered, "every time you have to make a decision, remember that. It's your job to save the world, and you're mine. So, take care of yourself, alright?" He couldn't actually tell her how long he'd been wanting to make her promise to do that- Buffy liked to put others before herself, it never turned out well. Not for her, anyway, the others always did relatively well out of it.  
  
"Spike?" Buffy asked after a minute of silence.  
  
"Yeah, love?"  
  
"You know that rain check I just gave you?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Could it be for tomorrow? Right now I'd like to sleep and just forget for a few hours."  
  
"No problem, pet."  
  
"And Spike?"  
  
"What now, love?"  
  
"If you're going to be like that I'm not telling you."  
  
"_Buffy_."  
  
"You're my world," she smiled as she felt him take a few unnecessary breaths and lean down to kiss the  
  
top of her forehead.  
  
"God, Slayer, I love you."  
  
"Love you too."

* * *

Buffy woke up later to see Spike in the recliner by the window of her room, fast asleep with a book on his chest, dressed in one of the many black silk dress shirts they'd picked up from his room that afternoon and a pair of black jeans. She'd never watched him sleep before, Spike wasn't naturally a deep sleeper, and the sound of her heartbeat quickening in the slightest would have him awake before she was really conscious. But then, since he'd been here, he hadn't been sleeping that much, a few post-coital naps with her, but then he'd go talk to Dawn or read. Which had been, apparently, what he'd chosen to do now. She climbed out of the bed and made her way over, quickly noting the beginnings of Dawn and closing the curtains before settling herself on his lap. Spike stirred slightly as she removed the book and placed it on the floor, her head taking the books place on his chest.  
  
"Hey," Spike said softly, reaching out to stroke her hair, "didn't hear you."  
  
"You were really out of it, you should sleep more. Insomnia doesn't suit you."  
  
"It's not insomnia, I'm nocturnal."  
  
"And you're up all day as well. That's called insomnia."  
  
"Not if you go back to the roots of the word, which have a lot to do with night, in which case I've been nocturnal since Dru turned me," Spike defended himself.  
  
"This is not about roots of words, this is about you being idiotic and never sleeping for more than half an hour at a time," Buffy snapped.  
  
"I'm not being idiotic, paranoid, maybe, idiotic, no."  
  
"And what the hell have you got to be paranoid about?"  
  
"That if I close my eyes I'll open them again and be back in that hotel room and you and Peaches will be happily shacked up, mostly," Spike admitted, "then there's the whole apocalypse thing, death, the Big Bad, etcetera, etcetera."  
  
"What whole apocalypse thing? For once we haven't got one hanging over our heads." Spike nodded, "ah, you _are_ paranoid. Just because the world isn't currently at it's worst, doesn't mean you've got to worry about it going bad. What happened to living for the moment? I've never seen you actually worry before. Well, except about Dawn."  
  
"Just got a few more reasons to care about the world ending now, love," Spike replied, kissing the top of her head.  
  
"But you're exhausted," Buffy protested, "you should sleep, I swear I'm not going anywhere. Well, maybe out on patrol," she ran a hand through her hair "and definitely a shower, but that's it, honestly, no need to worry about me going all poof."  
  
"There may be no need, but I still will," Spike grumbled, but followed Buffy as she pulled him over to the bed. She pushed him down, and actually pulled the covers up around him before turning to leave the room.  
  
"Sleep," she ordered as she opened the door, "until noon at least." Spike opened his mouth to protest, "and I'll try to dig up my old handcuffs." He immediately closed it. Buffy smiled to herself as she closed the door. It was good to have him home. 


	6. Someone Help Me Explain This Feeling

**Someone Help Explain This Feeling**

**A/N: Sorry for the long time between updates- I was computerless until yesterday 'cause I was at this cottage that doesn't even have a proper shower... you have no idea how not fun it is to be trapped in a five room cottage with six other people without a shower for two weeks.... and if you do, I feel very sorry for you. Oh, and I was wondering; I've got a sequel idea for this story, would anyone be interested in reading? It's either that or write an All-Human, and you probably really don't care, huh? **

**Disclaimer: All credit for characters goes to Joss. All fluff credit to me. Dina is also mine, but I don't like her much.**

Buffy woke up suddenly and early the morning five days after Spike had come back, a day after she'd talked to Giles. Spike was lying in bed beside her, an arm loosely around her waist and curled up to her back. She'd only been asleep for a few hours, judging from the black sky she could see through the open curtains. She considered what had woken her up, Spike was sound asleep and not even breathing, and she couldn't hear anyone in the kitchen. A minute later she registered the phone ringing. She quickly picked it up, hoping it wouldn't wake Spike, who was still exhausted after the few days of insomnia.

"Hello," she said, slightly groggy.

"Buffy?" Buffy's head snapped back at the voice, knocking hard onto Spike, who let out a string of curses.

"A-Angel," Buffy stuttered, "you know it's the middle of the night here, right? And you've realized we're not exactly on speaking terms?"

"Why the hell is Super-Forehead calling you, love?" Spike asked, sitting up behind her rubbing his head.

"Do I look like I know? And no macho-vampire pissing contests, understood?" Spike nodded sullenly sat back against the headboard, Buffy put her head on his shoulder, so he could listen to both ends of the conversation. It might have been a stupid insecurity, but it was better to cut it off at the head.

"Giles called me, he's worried about you, Buffy, and rightly so."

"This is none of his business or yours, I've decided what I want, and neither of you are involved," Buffy snapped. It was four in the morning, she had only been asleep two hours or so, and she was not happy.

"You told him you loved him in the final battle, yet you'd just kissed me, are you sure this isn't the same thing- he's there so you should enjoy it?"

"Do you know why I kissed you that night?"

"You're still in love with me?"

"No," Buffy said, cutting him off as he started another sentence, "but, at the time, I wanted to be with Spike- in every sense of the word. But, when I was with you, it was because I wanted _someone_ to help me deal with losing my dad and doing all the Slayer stuff, when I was with Riley, it was to have _someone_ to make me forget about you and play normal. I was wondering if I just wanted _someone_ and Spike was conveniently available, and I'd already hurt us both enough by doing that the first time, so I was just checking to see if you'd do the same thing. And you didn't. When I kissed you... I felt nothing. I love you, Angel, and I always will. But I'm not _in_ love with you anymore."

"And are you in love with Spike? Are you cookies?" Angel asked, the faintest touch of a laugh in the second question.

"I'm cookies, Angel, I'm hopelessly in love with him, and I'm cookies," Buffy grinned at Spike, who was looking at her with his scarred eyebrow raised. "Spike, stop looking at me like that, I'll tell you later," Buffy said, not bothering to cover the phone.

"I thought you said it was the middle of the night there why is Spike..." Angel trailed off. "Guess I still think you're sixteen, I'll leave you. Sorry for the phone call. Giles was in a snit and I wanted to hear it for myself. Make sure you were taken care of."

"I get it," Buffy said, "but that's really not your problem anymore, Angel. And I'm a bit sorry for what I said to you when you last phoned. But not really, you were out of line."

"I know I was, and I am sorry. I just... well, _I_ felt something in that kiss, Buffy, I guess I thought we could just start back up again where we left off," Angel said wistfully.

"Trust me, I know the feeling," Buffy said, "that weird little spark in the air? I got it whenever Spike was in the room after we broke up... you too, for a while, whenever I'd see you. 'Till Riley and then..." Buffy trailed off, ran a hand through her hair, "but I'm white picket fences and fat grandkids with Spike."

"Congratulations. Tell me how that normal thing works out, OK?" Buffy laughed, and Angel joined her.

"Get over me, okay? Trust me, I'm cookies, and there's only one person who's going to eat me from now on," Buffy paused and sensed that Spike was looking at her a touch oddly and Angel would have too had he been there, "that didn't come out well. But you probably know what I mean." Spike opened his mouth and Buffy promptly slapped a hand over it.

"Bye, Buffy, get in touch if you need me," Angel said, and hung up before Buffy could say anything else.

"That was weird, even for Angel," Buffy said, turning to look at Spike, "don't you think?"

"Yeah, bit odd," Spike agreed, "you really don't love him any more?"

"Don't kill me before I finish this sentence, deal?"

"We're over the random fits of homicidal rage now, pet," Spike said, turning her head to plant a soft kiss on her lips.

"Yes, I will always love Angel, but no, I'm not in love with him. I'm in love with _you_ and I don't... I can't imagine not being," she paused, "and I think that sounds pathetic. Because, really, who in my life hasn't left me? And I know that I couldn't stand to let you go again, I was jealous of my own- dead- mother, because Dawn said at least you two were together somewhere now. Sort of. Does that sound evil? And you're no-" Spike cut her off with a finger to her lips.

"Buffy, love, you need to calm down. You've started rambling again," Spike murmured, "and you're not insane. And it doesn't sound pathetic. I love you, I'm in love with you, and only you. But I don't forget Dru, however hard I may try... you're just more real, that's all, love. You're now, you're until next time I decided to go for a sunlit walk and beyond." Buffy bit her lip hard enough to draw blood when he said the words 'sunlit walk' and he licked it away, using all of his strength not to vamp out. Buffy noticed.

"You can, you know, I know it's there. Just because I don't see it doesn't mean I don't still know," she whispered, "you've done it before."

"That was different- I didn't have a soul yet, it just doesn't seem right," Spike said. Buffy recognized it as a William moment and decided not to let it pass.

"Spike, William, you just tasted human blood- it's painful not to go into game face after that, or so you've told me about fifty times..." Buffy smiled faintly, remembering all the times she'd somehow cut herself on well... something, in the urge to get her clothes off and let him lick the wound. She'd never tell him she loved it. Every time he hadn't actually vamped, but at the height of his climax, he'd slipped a few times. When it had been violent. "You've tried to kill me several times- trust me, I know you're a vampire at this point."

"I wish you didn't, love," he said, turning so he was facing away from her, rather than curled to her side.

"I hoped that you'd have the good sense to kick me out the door and go find a better man. Or a man,

period. There's no man good enough for you, and I'm a far cry from it. But when you told me you loved me... I'd already had to turn you away once and I couldn't do it again now that I knew you meant it. Weak." He accused himself, Buffy wasn't quite sure he was even talking to her anymore.

"Hey," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder, "I don't ask any better than the man who died for this world, never could. Like it or not, Will," she liked the name, she thought, as it came out of her mouth naturally, "you're one of the good guys now. You saved the world, and those of us who've done that don't get to play Big Bad anymore. No matter how much you want too. Funny thing about trying to get to be human... or as close to it as you can get. It works eventually." She swung herself over him and positioned his arms around her, letting her head rest on one bicep and putting a small kiss on his neck.

"But that's the thing, love, I'm not a man. I may be close but I'm not quite there. We could never have children." Spike said, "Dawn told me once that you always wanted to have a family."

"I did. But there's adoption, or sperm donation, if you want kids."

"We can never go on a proper date."

"I don't care."

"I'll never get old."

"Trust me fifty year old Buffy will love having a twenty-something plaything. I'll get old and ugly. There are cons to being human too."

"You, my sweet love, will never be ugly."

"I might be, like I said, pros and cons. And one day I'll die-" Spike cut her off quickly.

"And I'll take that sunlit walk I've been talking about."

"No!"

"You'll be..."

"Turn me, then."

"Never."

"Don't kill yourself."

"I'm already dead, won't be much of a difference."

"Please, William..."

"Alright, love, it's not important now, is it?"

"I guess not... but someday it will, won't it? And wouldn't it be nice to have it all sorted out before I'm..."

"Let's not, pet, let's just not. I don't want to think about it anymore... that summer if it hadn't been for Dawn I would have..." Spike couldn't finish the sentence without upsetting Buffy, who was clearly (at least to him) on the edge of tears. He wouldn't have cared to admit it even to her, but Spike was close enough himself. He knew that he'd have to find some way to distract her before she became a total wreck- for his sake as much as hers, he could never stand her tears.

"I know..." Buffy couldn't finish her sentence either. The fact that she could have come back to a world without Spike somehow shocked her, the last three years would have been so different, she realized somewhere faintly in the back of her head that none of them would be there today if Spike had taken his promised walk in the sun. She also knew that this conversation could only end in fists or tears and she needed to end it. "You're right, completely right. We'll worry about it when we need to."

"You know, Slayer, I think that's the first time you've ever said that to me," Spike remarked. "I don't like it really, submissive Buffy isn't very interesting, is she? Why I got rid of the Buffybot, really."

"You know, it's scary that you had a sex robot made of me?"

"Yeah, I know, baby," Spike said, Buffy smiled when she heard the new nickname, it was cute. She had always thought she'd hate being called 'baby', but when he said it, it wasn't half so bad. She'd actually hated nicknames altogether for most of her life, but now it struck a very wrong cord with her when he said her name, mostly because he was always angry with her when he said it. She and Dawn had both learned years ago that even if Spike was almost capable of entirely hiding emotions when he felt like it, use of their real names meant some major soothing had to be done. "But what about us has ever been normal?"

"Nothing," Buffy said, resigned, "and I doubt it ever will be. I mean, white wedding? I think not." Spike nodded affirmatively, not knowing whether she meant literally or figuratively. But he had decided long ago that he didn't like Buffy in white- it played up too much to the submissive Buffy images he was completely over. "But I kind of like weird. Feels natural." She grinned at him.

"And who says it's not. The Slayer and Vampire thing isn't exactly new is it?"

"If you mean me and Angel we just went over that..."

"Nah, trust me, you and Dina aren't the freaks of nature you'd like to believe you are- Slayers have a bit of a thing for us. No clue why. Works to my benefit so I won't question it."

"Why didn't anyone tell me these things before?" Buffy asked, she was long over the urge to either look anything up in a book, or disbelieve anything that came out of Spike's mouth.

"Well, Giles had his nose so buried up the Council of Wanker's collective arse, The Whelp and Red didn't know, I'm guessing Bit didn't either. And no one ever knows what the bloody hell Tall Dark And Forehead is up to," he looked at her pensively.

"You should have told me, oh, I don't know, Spike, let's try _four years ago_?"

"And you, of course, would have believed me? We're not forgetting my 'pig' days, now are we?"

"Trust me," she leaned up to kiss him, "you're still a pig, Spike." The kiss quickly grew heated.

"Definitely... still...a...pig," Spike managed through gritted teeth as she did something truly evil with her tongue. They were just getting into it when the door opened and a slice of light from the kitchen came in.

"Can I film this?" Buffy shrieked and pulled the sheets tighter around her, Spike rolled his eyes and sat up. Andrew was standing in the doorway, looking for all the world as if he was about to run for his camera. "It'd just be the perfect ending to the romance I'm doing with the two of you."

"You'd better have a damned good reason for coming in here..." he raised his scarred eyebrow. Andrew winced slightly, he remembered being bitten by Spike, it wasn't fun. Cool to brag about, but not fun.

"Dee got in a fight with something- maybe the boyfriend- and we thought Buffy should come out and do the whole Obi-Wan thing." Andrew explained cheerfully, "and Dawn thought she heard 'funky noises' and of course, even though Xander's male the thought of Spike naked apparently scared him, and no one can find Willow, And Dee's bleeding buckets so I think I got nominated to wake you up."

"Joy," Buffy said dryly, then she turned to Spike, "you should stay here- I mean, Slayer blood and she's just getting used to the idea of a vampire living with us. And it's probably just a blow up with the vampire sex-toy, we both know how those can go," she let out a low chuckle before she got out of bed, pulling the sheet with her, because Spike was under the comforter. "Out," she said to Andrew, who was watching, fascinated, from the doorway.

"Yes, Ma'am." Andrew said, giving a mock salute before leaving.

"That gives you a right proper power rush, doesn't it, Slayer?" Spike laughed from the bed as Buffy pulled her robe around her and tied it.

"Shut up," she said, "but yes, maybe it does. And as to our conversation before you distracted me with sex and banter- did that come out as Anya as I thought it did?- we've got to finish it sometime, alright?" Spike nodded, resigned and knowing it was true. As she closed the door behind her, Spike called out.

"I resent being called a sex-toy!"

Half an hour later, a very bored Spike decided that the kitchen was probably Slayer-blood free at this point, so, grabbing a pair of jeans, he ventured out. He had (thankfully, he reflected, he wasn't completely immune to temptation. And one Slayer's blood would set him on fire for another's...) been right, the kitchen was empty, and save for a few blood soaked rags in the sink, things were looking alright. He warmed a mug of pig's blood from the fridge, just in case, before going into the living room.

"... and you expect me to believe that he'll never do this again? You're a horror story, Dee, you need little cones around you 'romantic mess' scrawled on your forehead! I may have dated my fair share of demons, but they- for the most part- had souls and I didn't purposely seek them out! It just happened- you, on the other hand, handpick the wrong man from a batch of them, then lead him on for months at a time and then finally, finally get your little _sixteen-year-old_ ass in trouble of some sort. Some of which results in emergency contraception, don't you dare think I've forgotten that. And I always fix it- well guess what, Dee, you're a Slayer, and independence is big. So ditch the rotating bad-boys act, or actually pay attention in training once in a while so you don't break your ribs quite so often-" Dina seeing Spike interrupted desperately from where she was lying, bandaged, on the couch.

"Spike, please, please, please make her shut up and I'll never let Andrew put milk in your blood again..." Dina pleaded, she hadn't been around them together that much, but she knew that if anyone could persuade Buffy that maybe she was going the wrong way about something, it was Spike. He had a connection with her that rivaled Willow's and Xander's, and was at the same point as Dawn's. He could change her mood with a touch, whereas it would take Dina some serious bargaining.

"What, exactly, happened?" He asked diplomatically, taking a sip of the blood in his mug.

"This idiot went out and tried to-" Buffy began.

"I just wanted to see him and he-" Dina said at exactly the same time. Spike held up a hand to silence

both Slayers, almost identical death stares were sent at him.

"Dee, you first," Buffy glared, "it's likely to be slightly less skewered since she doesn't seem quite as barmy as you."

"I'm not barmy!" Buffy protested, but Spike slid a hand around her waist and pulled her against him, then nodded at Dee to talk. "And who actually says barmy?" Buffy mumbled to him as Dina started talking.

"I just felt like seeing him, because it had been a while, and he's sort of king of this graveyard- do you guys do that?- well, anyway, he's like head honcho so I figured he'd be there. Well, he was and he was doing some world-domination thing that I think I interrupted, so I tried to pull him aside and then I guess we just went at it. I fainted just after he left, and I think because he didn't drain me it's all okay, isn't it? I mean, Spike, didn't you and Buffy ever fight? I mean, after you were de-chipped?"

"There was that one time..." Spike said, looking at Buffy.

"You were being a jerk!" Buffy exclaimed, pulling away from Spike and turning to face him

"I was trying to stop you getting a life sentence for a murder I didn't think you'd had the time to commit!"

Spike spat back immediately, "And honestly, tell me I wasn't right, pet."

"You should have let me do the right thing!"

"Which was getting yourself incarcerated? Buffy, I'm all for you being the longest-lived Slayer but I'd like that life to be somewhere where I don't need a conjugal visit pass to see you." He was mad at her, this wasn't good. Buffy wasn't ready to admit that he had been right three years ago, but fighting with a newly rediscovered Spike for the first time wasn't to high on her list of things to do. Neither, however, was giving up.

"It was my choice."

"It was the wrong one. You were the only Slayer-"

"There was Faith."

"And she's just a model of responsibility, isn't she, Buffy?" Spike snapped at her, he didn't want to do this, but he was truly angry with her, if only because they were both bringing up the past and he knew what this would eventually lead to. It may not have been on purpose, but somehow Buffy would bring up that night in the bathroom, and that would be it. It would be at least a week before things went back to normal, and he'd definitely have a few uncomfortable nights on the couch before that. Or maybe she'd even get really nasty and in that fake forgiving-Buffy voice offer to let him share Andrew's room. Or, if she was being really horrible, Xander's.

"I'm not..." Buffy murmured before turning and spinning out of the room.

"_Shit_," Spike said, clenching a fist at his side and taking a sip of blood. "Bloody buggering hell. Damn. Fuck." Dina looked at him. "She's not had a boyfriend since you've been round, has she?"

"Didn't have time, between the crying over you and the throwing things at people who mention you. She's been different since you've been here, really different. More like a real person, kind of scary, actually, there's supposed to be this layer of separation between Slayers and Watchers, or so I'm told," then she looked at him. "Why'd you get a soul anyway?"

"Long story, but, boiled all down, Buffy I guess, just Buffy."

"You're a real romantic, aren't you?" Dina said, looking at him strangely.

"Always was, love, William the Bloody Awful Poet, that was me. Mad as a hatter over some chit most of the time," he flashed her a trademark grin, "and now I've got to go get to lucky number three without her ending up in tears or me ending up with a black eye. Then, I think I'll go shake hands with the pope at noon on a sunny summer's day and live to tell the tale."

"Lucky number three?"

"Cecily, Dru, Buffy," he ticked them off on his fingers, "third and definitely last woman I've fallen properly in love with."

"Dumb names," Dina commented as he made his way out of the room, cursing and running a hand through his hair, his mug of blood forgotten on the coffee table.


	7. Do I Feel Your Arms Embracing Me

**Do I Feel Your Arms Embracing Me? **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. I would like a Spike though. **

**A/N: Sorry for the shortness factor. I have decided to definitely do a sequel, possibly even make it a trilogy. 'Cause I got such good reception for this story, so this is more of a 'yes-they're-happy-and-together-now-hurry-up-and-wait-for-the-next-part" than an actual chapter... But I hope you like it anyway!!! Oh, and thanks to everyone who's reviewed this story so far, and I hope you like the sequel! Oh, and to my one reviewer for the last chapter: Cecily was the girl Spike was in love with when she was human, she was also Halfrek in a wierd same-actress way. **

Dawn was the only one who heard the entire fight, it started out with ten minutes of solid silence, when she assumed Buffy was either not looking at Spike or crying, which meant Spike wouldn't be able to get up the strength to yell at her. Then came a couple minutes of tersely muttered words, insults, Dawn guessed. Followed shortly by the shouting, mostly, they all noticed, Buffy, with an occasional interruption from a severely ticked off Spike. They'd brought up the past, the future, and at one point, bizarrely, Clem's sexual preferences, but, everyone in the house (including Andrew, who had brought his video camera and was curled up by the vent in Dawn's room) noted that never at any point, had there been a threat to leave the other. Buffy's promise that Spike would be sleeping in Andrew's room for a week not withstanding.

"YOU'RE A _MONSTER_!" Buffy spat out finally, shrieking, and that was when it all went silent. Andrew was thinking sex. Xander was assuming Spike had left through the window to go out and kill something. Dina thought someone must have died. Dawn, who was the closest to right, thought that Spike had probably gotten so offended that he had stopped speaking to Buffy until he could be sure of what would come out of his mouth.

In truth, Buffy had realized what had come out of her mouth in anger a few seconds after she'd said it.

"I'm sorry, Spike... I... I don't have an excuse," she laughed bitterly, "that was a bloody stupid thing to say and I don't mean it. You're not a monster, you know that."

"Bloody right you don't have an excuse, that was a low blow, Slayer," Spike said, from where he had turned to face her window, the faint light from between the curtains outlining him perfectly to Buffy, who was sitting on the bed. "And you meant it when you said it."

"You called me a whore, did you mean that when you said it?" She spat back, any thoughts of apologizing for the fight in general sweeping themselves out of her head.

"Meant it at the time, Buffy, not so much any more."

"Please don't call me Buffy," she pleaded, his cold tone biting her deeply.

"What then?"

"Anything other than that- I hate it when you get this angry with me and actually use my name, you know that. I always have, at first I was just disgusted that you knew my name, then I started liking being called other things by you- Goldilocks, even- and now it means you're mad at me. And when people get mad, they leave." She looked at his back, willing him to turn around. "And don't you dare try to pretend you haven't even thought of it."

"I haven't," he said, turning to her, expression softening as he saw her face. Maybe their past was never going to leave them alone, but that didn't mean he had to screw up the present quite so much. He hated fighting with her- punching each other and trying to skewer her with a sword could be fun- though he was always careful not to hurt her, hated to admit that he always had been, she was delicate, in his mind at least, but with words? He couldn't pull up strength to actually hurt her, probably never would be able too.

"Buffy," that same hurt look in her eyes softening his resolve even more, "love, you know I'm not going anywhere. I figure as long as you're not dating the Poofster and there aren't men worthy of you, I'll be selfish and keep you all to myself." He kneeled down by the bed where she was sitting, putting his head on her lap as she began to run her hands through his hair.

"This might not be the easiest thing for either of us to do, pet, but we'll do it anyway. Sure, we're always going to fight, and unless Red wants to give us a very nice gift in the form of a time travel spell, our past is always going to be the same. There will always be Drusilla, Angel, hell, even Harmony's probably given us both a bit of emotional hell. And that Parker bloke, and Captain Cardboard. They'll never properly leave us alone, we talked about that earlier tonight. Halfrek too, I guess.

"And I'm never not going to have tried to..." there was an uncomfortable pause where Spike looked for a word and Buffy lay down, pulling him up to lie with his head on her stomach, still running her hands through his hair, "force myself. You're never not going to have treated me like shit for a year.

"But, in the end, we're going to be together. Trust me on that one, Slayer. Don't ask any questions, don't even try to take care of it more than you have to. I've failed you twice, I'm not doing it again, love, never again."

"Spike, don't, you never let me down. Not that night at the tower and definitely not in Sunnydale. You defeated the First- you saved the freaking world. So, yeah, I spent a year being a bit catatonic- but I was here to be all Buffy-Bot!" She protested, pulling him up so he was propped on his arms over her, looking her in the eyes. "I'm sorry I may have overreacted to what you said. And I am going to try to make this work, just as hard as you are. And it is going to work... isn't it?" She lets the unease that came from the fact that they could still yell at each other until her throat was raw and there were very few things she wants to do more than sprinkle a bit of holy water on him creep into her voice.

"Of course it is, pet. Remember, love's bitch here. I think I may actually _enjoy_ having my heart systematically ripped apart from time to time..." he grinned at her and the mood changed instantly, she forgave him for the things he'd said to her, and he forgave her.

Yes, it may seem far too simple, but that was the funny thing about their new relationship. Everything was so simple. Their past was there, like Spike had said, always would be, but, for the first time, the future stretched out for them clear and unblemished. Buffy and Spike both knew they'd screw up more times than either could count, but they also knew that they couldn't bear to lose each other again so it would always work out. Hopefully.

Spike was just about to lean down to kiss her on the lips when Andrew burst into the room. Seeing a shirtless Spike leaning over Buffy, whose robe was hanging quite conspicuously open shocked him into silence, before, in that every-annoying squeak he spoke:

"Can I film this?" Buffy just laughed, not wanting to break her moment quite so soon with unreal reality (a term she'd come up with for the people living in her house other than she and Spike recently, because it seemed like they were the only two people in existence sometimes), so she laughed into his mouth. Maybe, Buffy paused to consider halfway through their kiss, she was insane to try this again. When had it ever worked before?

But then she considered the difference between the twenty-one year old girl just back from the dead and looking for some way to feel something other than emptiness in all the wrong places- which in the end turned out to be right, and the twenty-four year old woman who knew exactly what she wanted, exactly where it was, and exactly how she was getting it.

Spike wondered why he was doing this to himself, letting himself go completely and totally – and no, not only because he thought Andrew was probably filming this. Mostly because he had realized he wasn't having second thoughts. Which probably meant that this wasn't something he could decide not to do. And that lead him to wonder; who exactly was making this choice? So many small changes could have ruined these perfect moments between them; if he'd decided to ambush her somewhere other than the Bronze- if his first sight of her had been the Slayer side, he wouldn't have had a problem killing her. But seeing Buffy- really seeing her- that changed everything.

He planned, someday, on telling her about all the little moments when he fell in love with her- there must be millions, there's one every day at least. The way she flicked Andrew with one hand while she's writing something with the other one. Or perhaps, sometimes, the way she looked at the oven as if it was the most confusing thing she'd ever met and someone at the kitchen table- Spike thought that these people spent an inordinate amount of time in the kitchen- got up to help her. He, personally, hadn't tried yet, preferring to see her somehow actually burn water than help her. He chuckled deeply, pulling back and pulling her robe shut.

"Do we really want to star in Andrew's new porno?" He asked her as she looked at him, slightly disappointed.

"Guess not," she grumbled, "but we'll pick this up later?"

"Most definitely. Now. Who gets to threaten Andrew?"

"I'm thinking we get Dawn- he's more scared of her than he is of you. Which is weird," Buffy commented.

"You're supposed to pretend I'm not here! So it's like the Blair Witch Project... no one knows whether or not it's real and..." Andrew trailed off as two death glares were shot his way. "Did you two know you look freakishly alike when you're really, really ticked off at me?" More death glaring, "I think this means you don't want me here?"

"Really, Andrew? Because from all the threatening to get Dawn to come in and yell at you like she did when you hung yourself from the roof to film her breaking up with Gerald, and the glaring, I was getting a real come-watch-us-have-sex vibe," Buffy said sarcastically.

"Freakishly alike, really, and you should get a dog that gives that death stare for, like, the perfect Stepford family 'cause you know, vamps can't make babies and..." Andrew, wisely, shut up and back out of the room, closing the door behind him.

"Remind me again why he lives with us?" Spike said, rolling off her and collapsing on the sheets with an arm across her stomach.

"Well, it was supposed to be until Giles let him be a Watcher-In-Training, but then we kind of ran out of Slayers old enough to be, err, Watched. So we got to keep Andrew until he 'found his place in the world', which he decided was 'to be with Buffy like a Jedi', whatever the hell that means. So I wanted him out, but then Dawn wanted him here, God knows why, I don't think she likes him any more than I do."

"Love," Spike said patiently, his worst suspicions confirmed, "do you like me?"

"Sometimes, why?"

"Do you love me?"

"'Course I do," she said, quickly pecking him on the lips, "what I don't see is what-" Buffy froze for a second, "Dawn, my poor little innocent baby sister and _Andrew_? He's older than her ... lots older."

"I'm about a hundred and thirty years older than you, pet."

"Yeah, but your mental age is about twelve!"

"Thirteen year age difference, then," Spike commented, flipping onto his stomach and beginning to play with her hair. "Besides, it's better Andrew than, say, the king of Poofiness, you were younger than her when you started carrying on with that buffoon."

"Someday, Spike, some very lovely day, we're going to teach you to swear like a normal person."

"We're in Britain, my love, you're the odd one out here."

"Spike, does making fun of the way I talk get me into your pants any faster?"

"No, love."

"Then, why, Spike, are you doing it?"

"Banter?"

"Spike, you're an idiot. Now shut up and kiss me."

"Done and done, love."


End file.
